The Defining Moment
by essential.invisible
Summary: We're not just friends, and you know it. Kate, Dutchy - and taking a chance.


an: so this isn't actually what I was meant to be working on, but well… i was looking at first line prompts, and here we are.

timeline: in 4.15 – in too deep, but assuming that there is a lot of missed time between episodes that we don't see.

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**the defining moment**

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"We're not just friends and you fucking know it," Kate says, her voice low and angry. She stares at Dutchy, refusing to back down. She doesn't even know why they're arguing about this right now, but he doesn't get to cheapen this, he doesn't get to make her choice for her. She is done with men thinking they know what is better for her.

"X – "

"No, don't do that. Don't try and use work – " she breaks off, hates that her voice catches. "I don't understand Dutchy."

"I saw you," he says, his face set. "On the ship – I saw you and the boss. Don't worry, I won't say anything," he sneers.

She flinches, as if struck. She knew what he was talking about, but he didn't understand. Yes, she'd kissed Mike – but it had been – complicated. She'd kissed him as an affirmation – he was alive, she hadn't inadvertently led him to his death by ignoring his phone calls – but it had also been closure. Seeing him alive, after thinking he was dead – she'd suddenly realized that she had finally moved on. That maybe complications weren't a bad thing.

"Dutchy," she says, and lets the anger drain away. "Please, just – just let me explain, okay?" She moves closer to him, lays a hand on his arm. He is tense, his muscles straining. "Please," she repeats, and leads him to a more secluded area. They shouldn't be talking about this on the ship, but there is no time. She won't let him walk away, not without knowing the truth.

And so, she talks. She tells him about a young midshipman, who'd gone out for drinks and had a one-night stand that turned into two weeks of happiness and falling in love. Of walking into a lecture room at ADFA, and realizing that Mike, her Mike, was actually Lieutenant Commander Michael Flynn. She tells him, a wistful smile on her face, about keeping it professional, about agreeing to discuss it once he was no longer her instructor. Then smile fading, she talks about how they'd had one more night, one perfect night after she was done, before she woke the next morning, to find him gone.

Dutchy lets her speak, and she is grateful. She doesn't think she could do this if she had to do it in small doses. She's always been one for ripping off the bandaid, rather than taking it off slowly. She keeps going, tells him about building herself back up again, about not letting heartbreak keep her from her dreams. She gets promoted to sub-lieutenant, and then to lieutenant. She's happy – and then she's posted to the Hammersley, where fucking mighty Mike Flynn is the CO.

Here, she stops to take a shaky breath, and when Dylan takes her hand and curls his fingers around hers, her heart skips a beat. She squeezes his hand, before she continues. She tells him about trying to stay professional on a tug boat, about Ursula Morrell and Rick Gallagher and the whole fucking mess that first six months on the ship was.

"So what you're saying is you've always had shitty taste in guys, then." Dylan says, breaking the silence she's fallen into. She gives a shaky laugh, and then tries to talk about Jim, about how they'd met, about how she'd fallen for him – and then about how he'd walked away from her, as if it was nothing, as if _she _was nothing, without giving her a chance to explain.

"I could've spent the rest of my life with him," she says, and she doesn't say it to hurt him, but because it was true. "With Mike – Mike and I – we've always had the worst timing – and in the end," here she pauses again, because she still doesn't want to admit it to herself. "In the end, we just didn't care enough."

"Kate – that's not – "

"No, it is," she interrupts, her voice soft. Squeezing his hand tighter, she keeps speaking. "After Mike was promoted, back when you first joined the ship, we tried to make a go of it."

He stills, his fingers going lax against hers for a second. She ignores it, tries to have faith that he'll let her explain. That he'll give them a chance. "We slept together, and then the next thing I knew, he was back on the Hammersley as CO." She doesn't add that it had felt like Watson's Bay all over again.

"He could have turned down the posting – the brass had been trying to get him on-shore for years." She's not blameless either, though. "I could have left. Requested another posting. Left completely. But we didn't push – and frankly, I don't know that there was anything to push for." She laughs softly. "Do you know, I asked him once, if he'd thought about kids."

"And," he prompts, when it seems like she's not going to continue.

"He hadn't thought about them."

"Kate, sometimes guys don't think about things like that." Dutchy points out, and she hates that he feels like he has to play devil's advocate.

"I know. Still, it made me re-evaluate things."

"You requested a transfer, though."

"Yes, but not for the reasons you think – it was personal as much as it was professional."

"What do you mean?"

"I realized a few things," she says, before continuing her earlier train of thought, before he'd interrupted. "Then, there was you. This cocky, condescending, womanizing ass who seemed to alternate between hating me and wanting to wrap me up in cotton wool."

"Hey!"

"But then you let me in. You let me see Dylan, and not just Dutchy," she says, looking at their hands, still joined together. She's not sure he realizes what that means to her. "We went out, we had fun – god, we've practically spent every moment of shore leave together - you dragged me swimming, and took me to breakfast, and a million little other things over these last few months, and it was so easy, for once. It was so easy to be friends with you, to be myself with you."

"Friends, huh," he says, his fingers tightening around hers' for a moment before loosening.

"Not just friends," she says, hesitantly. She can do this. She can be brave. She can take the leap. "You made it so easy, you know, and I never saw it coming."

"What?" His voice is as much of a whisper as hers.

She jumps, hopes he will catch her. "Falling in love with you."

She waits, her breath caught, as he processes her words. He looks stunned, and for a long, long moment where her stomach falls, he says nothing. "Oh," her voice cracks a little as she hastily tears her fingers away from his. She's read this all wrong. "I'm sorry – I thought – I just, I'm sorry," she says, stepping back. Oh god, she's ruined it. Maybe they were just friends, maybe that's all he's ever seen her as, maybe there was no choice to make.

She turns, blinking against the tears welling in her eyes, and freezes as his hand closes around her arm, before he spins her around to face him. She keeps her eyes on her feet, her heart pounding. "Kate – " his voice is hoarse, but she doesn't look up, refusing to meet his eyes. This is humiliating enough, she doesn't need to see pity written all over his face. He cups her face with his hands, and her breath hitches as he brushes his thumb over her cheek. "Look at me," he asks. "Please."

Unable to deny him, she looks up at him. He lowers his head, presses his forehead against hers. When he speaks, she can feel his breath on her skin. "Kate McGregor, you are the most infuriating, stubborn, strong, smart, beautiful woman I have ever met – and you're also an idiot if you haven't realized that I am _in love with you_."

His eyes are focused on hers, and suddenly he's both too close and not close enough. Her hands reach up of their own volition, coming to rest on his. His skin is warm against hers, and the chill from the sea air seems to vanish. "Dutchy, are you – " her voice breaks off as he closes the distance between them, his lips brushing hers, once, and then again.

He pulls away slightly as they hear muffled laughter in the distance, and she remembers where they are. He pulls their entwined hands to his lips, leaving a kiss on her palm. "I love you," he says, whisper soft.

She smiles, a small laugh escaping her. "I love you," she repeats, her heart leaping.

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ugh, that ending – I really couldn't figure out where to end it. Anyway, would love to know what you think, please.

Also, the title and some of the inspiration for this fic comes from Beau Taplin's poem, 'The Defining Moment', a few lines from which I've included below.

_You were an unexpected surprise._

_The defining moment._

_/_

_I never expected it to be you,_

_you know?_

_But it is you._

_It's all you._

_And now there's no looking back. _


End file.
